‘I have always felt an urge to fight the Infidel,’ said Richard.

‘I know it, my son. We will go together. I shall send envoys into the French King’s camp and tell him of my intentions.’


* * *

When Philip heard Henry’s request he smiled slyly.

He sent for Philip of Flanders.

‘Do you know, Count, what the King of England suggests? That I give him two years’ truce while he goes to the Holy Land.’

‘He will never go to the Holy Land.’

‘I know that well.’

‘He is old and sick.’

‘Though a lion still.’

‘A mangy lion.’

‘He can still growl fiercely and has some of his teeth. Let us not forget that, Count.’

‘What will you do, my lord King?’

‘Accept the truce. Let him go to the Holy Land and we will see what happens to his dominions while he is away.’

‘You would attack them? While he was away on a crusade?’

‘Let us say that I would have no hesitation if I saw the opportunity. But rest assured, Count, he will never go on a crusade. That is what he told my father. He merely wants to postpone a battle. He has no intention of going to the Holy Land.’

‘What do you wish then?’

‘To say, yes. There shall be a truce for two years. Now let him go to the Holy Land! It is time Henry realised that I see right through his schemes. Let them go. I cannot wait to hear what the King of England has to say.’


* * *

Even before the envoys returned Henry was in despair.

He sent for Richard whose knowledge of warfare was so much greater than John’s.

‘I wouldn’t trust Philip,’ he said. ‘If I went on a crusade how should I know what was happening to my country? He is not like his father.’

‘Nay,’ agreed Richard, ‘he is indeed not like his father.’

‘It occurs to me that he may accept my terms. If he did, how could I go on a crusade? How could I, Richard?’

‘You would risk losing all if you did.’

‘Then how could I go? And the other alternative is war. I will take you into my confidence, Richard. All those years when Philip’s father was King there was conflict between his country and mine. Sometimes I think there always will be. What am I to do? I must have a truce. I must avoid war.’

Richard looked at his father. He could not believe that this was the great Henry Plantagenet speaking. How grey he looked, how drawn! He was more ill than he would admit.

‘Richard,’ he said, ‘you must see the King of France. Ask him for new terms for a truce. I am not prepared to go to war. The King of France is eager for it now, which can only mean that he is aware of his strength.’

‘I … see the King of France,’ cried Richard. ‘You would ask me to go … as a suppliant?’

‘I would ask you to go in all honour but to see if you can bring him to terms.’

‘You have offered him terms. You will go on a crusade for two years’ truce.’

‘I cannot go on a crusade! I dare not. Nay, Richard, there must be other terms.’

‘And you think he would offer those terms to me?’

‘You are my son, my eldest son …’

‘Methinks that is something you often forget,’ said Richard quietly.

‘Bring about this truce and I will remember it always.’

Spoken from the heart but what did that mean with Henry Plantagenet?

‘I see I must needs go,’ said Richard. ‘I must be humble and I like that not.’

‘Sometimes momentary humiliation is necessary for glory to come.’

‘Then,’ said Richard, ‘I will go to the King of France.’


* * *

Philip waited to receive him.

How beautiful he was! thought the King of France as Richard rode into his camp. Those cold blue eyes, that hair that was neither red nor yellow, the strength of the countenance and the tall straight figure!

How proud the King of England should be of such a son and how foolish he was to put his faith in John. The King of England’s folly was the gain of the King of France.

Ceremoniously Richard handed his sword to Philip. He was bareheaded as he knelt.

Philip put out a hand and touched the curling hair.

‘Rise, Richard,’ he said gently.

He took him into his tent as he had before.

Richard said: ‘I come in humility. My father asks for a truce.’

Philip smiled wryly. ‘That he may go on a crusade?’

‘He cannot go on a crusade. He wishes for a truce that you might parley together and come to terms.’

‘Come to terms with your father! But he does not know how to keep a promise. My father was continually coming to terms with the King of England and what good came of it for France?’

‘Still he asks for terms.’

‘Then I will meet him. Why, Richard, if I went into battle with him now I would defeat him.’

‘He has never been defeated.’

‘He is eager for a truce now because he knows that the time has at last come for him to face defeat. I am going to be lenient with him, Richard. You would fight with him. I would not wish you to suffer the humiliation of defeat … or possibly death. For your sake, cousin, I will consider this truce.’

‘What are your terms, my lord?’

Philip looked at that proud handsome face.

‘That the King of England gives me his son to stay with me a while that we may talk together of our difficulties.’

‘You mean … a hostage?’

‘I would not call it that. You will be treated as an honoured guest. I would not have you think that I would make a prisoner of you. I want your friendship, Richard. Aye, so much do I want it that I am ready to consider giving your father a truce – when I all but have him at my mercy – for the sake of it.’

A hostage! thought Richard. For that was what it was. He liked that not. And the alternative? Defeat in battle.

He must give way.


* * *

Philip took great pains to treat his guest with the utmost courtesy. He wanted Richard to know that it gave him great pleasure to have him at his Court.

They hunted together and when they sat at table they ate from the same dish. This was how the most honoured guests were treated and Philip implied that that was how he regarded Richard.

He was not happy when Richard was not at his side. His voice was frequently heard demanding the whereabouts of the Duke of Aquitaine.

He said to Richard: ‘It is a custom that the greatest honour we can show a guest is to ask him to share our bed. That is what I would wish you to do, my beloved cousin.’

And so it came to pass. The friendship between Richard and the King of France was one of passionate devotion.

Richard began to learn much of the affairs of France from Philip and in his turn he talked of his own difficulties. The two trusted each other during this time for there was a deep bond of love between them.

When they rode together in the forest they talked of their affairs and sometimes when they lay in bed together Philip would tell Richard of his plans.

‘You must watch your father, Richard,’ he said. ‘I have seen that he is no friend of yours. He favoured your brother Henry although he would give him no power and when Henry died he turned to John. I know that he plans to set you aside for John.’

‘I shall not allow it.’

‘And I shall be beside you.’

‘Why should he treat me thus?’

‘Because he fears you in some way. You are so noble to look at. So different from him. What a coarse creature he is! His clothes are so often soiled, and his hands …’ Philip shuddered. ‘My beautiful Richard, it seems impossible that you could be his son. But then regard me. And I had a monk for a father … or so he would have been if he could have chosen. You were born to rule and he fears you. That is at the source of it. He has prevented you marrying my sister. He will try now to disinherit you.’

‘He cannot do it. I am his eldest son.’

‘He will try. He wants John to have what is yours.’

‘I shall not allow that. Nor would the people.’

‘We must see that they do not. You and I will work together, Richard. Always … you and I together.’


* * *

Henry was puzzled. What was this strange friendship of his son with the King of France? They were seen often together. It was said that the King of France was peevish when Richard was not at his side.

It was disconcerting. Henry did not like to think of Alice’s brother and Alice’s betrothed putting their heads together.

Sometimes he suffered intense pain. Then he only wanted to be at peace. If he could be with Alice he would be content. Alice had become a symbol to him; she was more than a mistress. When he lost Alice he would have lost the battle. He felt somehow that would be the end.

This was folly. He was a great king. He had been known as the most feared in Christendom. It was simply because he was old and ill that he felt this.

He kept John beside him, and thanked God for him. The poor old man he had become needed John, needed his affection, needed to know that he had not failed with all his sons. The old Henry that he had been seemed a separate part of him, another being who stood aside and watched mockingly. John, that Henry said, do you trust John? Have you forgotten the eaglet who was waiting the moment to pluck out your eyes?

Richard and Philip … together. His son and the King of France!

It was a dangerous friendship.

He wrote to Philip.

He knew that one of the differences between them was the betrothal of Alice to Richard. That marriage had been long delayed. Richard had never shown any interest in it. Now he, Henry, had other plans. Suppose he gave all his lands – with the exception of England and Normandy – to John, and John married Alice.